


Thank You For the Venom

by hiza-chan (callunavulgari)



Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Poison, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callunavulgari/pseuds/hiza-chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lightning doesn't really know what she'd been expecting. She'd been careless- had paid too much attention to the sun in the sky and the growing shadows against the dirt, not enough to the brambles and shrubbery they were trudging through.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You For the Venom

**Author's Note:**

> Written for ffxiii_kink and can be found there as well.

Lightning doesn't really know what she'd been expecting. She'd been careless- had paid too much attention to the sun in the sky and the growing shadows against the dirt, not enough to the brambles and shrubbery they were trudging through.  
  
She hadn't even seen the damn thing- just a flash of _-blue scales dripping green fangs **pain-**_ and then Hope's fire had wrapped around it and the crackles of burning flesh had never sounded so wonderful. It had screamed, it's flesh bubbling and blackening, and the scent was almost enough to make her gag, because you never really got used to the smell of burning flesh. By the time the poison really started to take effect, it had stopped screaming.  
  
The amount of time it takes for Lightning to drop to her knees, her head spinning and her vision blurring disgusts her. She is not this weak. She can't still be this weak. She has people to save and a sister to free and she doesn't claim to be a Hero like that buffoon of a man but she tries her damndest to be one anyways.  
  
Hope's face swims in and out of focus, his voice nearly inaudible, and she wonders if he's scared. Who will protect the damn kid now? The thought makes her want to laugh, so she does so and tries not to feel guilty when this is what makes fear spark in the kid's pretty green eyes. She feels hands scrabbling at her clothes- lifting her skirts and ghosting hands across her legs. Pain flares red hot as pale fingers brush against the bite and she wants to hit him because _fuck_ it _hurts_. She curses herself for not learning more white magic, curses Hope for not having learned this particular spell, and curses herself some more for not picking up some Antidote while they were going through the last town.  
  
And then her skirt is bunched around her waist and there's lips brushing against the wound, careful- so very careful. She tries not to groan when Hope suckles the wound because fuck, he's being too gentle, he'll never get the venom out like that--  
  
So she shakes through the pain and tries to drown herself in reality long enough to fist her hand in his hair and tug. After a moment he seems to get the message, because he sucks harder and that's what she needs. If he keeps up like that the poison will be drawn out soon enough. The minutes pass and reality returns to her piece by jagged piece. Hope's lips become less a necessity and more of a pleasure. His lips work against her thigh and she spreads her legs a bit more- accommodating.  
  
By the time the poison's gone she's almost enjoying the attention. There's a time and a place, she tells herself. She can forget this, forget the feel of little boy lips pressed to her skin and the hot sensation curling in the pit of her belly. She can forget this and when they get to the next town she can go out, get drunk and fuck some civilian stupid. She won't enjoy this. She can't enjoy this. Lightning tells herself that she doesn't want Hope to do this and knows she's lying to herself.  
  
Hope's frantic, sucking harder and wrapping one hand around the back of her calf like he doesn't know what to do with his hands. She thinks she hears him sob and feels awful. He's drifting now, ghosting his lips across the wound in little half kisses like this is a fairy tale and he can kiss the venom away. She really hopes that he knows enough to have spit the poison back out. Finally, her hand relaxes in his hair, and she brushes it back- smooths it back from his forehead and feels something sick curl in her gut because that's a motherly gesture and the thoughts she's having right now are far from motherly.  
  
Lightning startles when he lays his cheek against her thigh, blows out a sigh of relief that tickles the skin there and caresses the edges of her underthings. She shivers and the whimper that escapes her lips is incriminating enough.  
  
He goes stiff, tension mounting in his shoulders and she's almost proud at how fast he's assessed the situation. Because he's finally getting it, finally getting that her skirt's pulled up past her waist and there's only a thin layer of fabric and several inches of space between his mouth and her clit. Finally getting why it had taken her so long to let him know that she was safe- that the poison was gone. Lightning doesn't really know what to expect. Not with this kid. He's surprised her from the start and she thinks that there's probably hope for him yet.  
  
What she doesn't expect is for him to move- dropping kisses along her thigh before he reaches her panties. He presses a tentative kiss against the swell of her, licks her through the fabric and she wonders how long it's going to take for her to come undone. He's moving cautiously, unsure, and Lightning knows that if she opens her eyes he'll be blushing.  
  
He licks in short, quick little strokes and she has to remind herself that there's no possible way that he's ever done this before. She'll have to coax him through it, same as she has everything else. Patience. She needs to have it.  
  
She allows him to remove her panties, kicks them off into the dirt where they snag on some nearby thorns. God, this is uncomfortab- And then his mouth is pressed against her, hot and slick and wet and so good. He's careful at first, like she's going to start scolding him anytime now, but as time passes and whimpers and moans are drawn from her lips he grows bolder.  
  
It almost amuses her, because once the cautious stage has passed he's curious. He licks inside of her, back out to tease along the fragile skin where her thigh meets, runs his tongue along her folds like he's playing- and god, he's got her so hot that she's about to scream at him to get a goddamn move on already. He gives her clit a little lick- not more than a flick of his tongue and she bites her lip and comes harder that she has in years.  
  
He's _smirking_ when she finally comes down enough to glance at him and she wonders just who he's picked that up from. And then she remembers the way she'd smirked after her fist had left a bruising dent in Snow's cheek and thinks that she may recognize the look.  
  
And because he looks far too pleased with himself, she rolls her eyes and pulls him up for a kiss. She tastes herself on his tongue and a hint of something acidic and _burning_ that she thinks may possibly be a trace of poison. He presses against her, rubs himself against her thigh and _whimpers-_  
  
She pulls away from him long enough to get his pants unfastened and his cock in her hands. She pumps idly, ignores his murmured encouragements and wonders if he'll hold out long enough to let her ride him. She shudders and thinks that it might just be worth it.


End file.
